


Jonathan

by Alliliswips (ilien)



Series: SG1/MCU Crossover [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Discussion of Infidelity, F/M, For Drunk Sex, Howard-centric, M/M, and discontinued, but the ending is there, central pairing is Howard/OMC, dubcon, implied one-sided Howard/Steve, no happy ending, private Lorraine might as well be an OFC, questionable reasons for life-changing decisions, since this is supposed to be more or less canon-compliant, this is missing a part in the middle, time appropriate homophobia, time appropriate sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27067840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilien/pseuds/Alliliswips
Summary: They’ve had this talk before. Obie always says Sean isn’t worth it. Howard usually prefers to pretend he doesn’t understand what Stane is implying.This provides a backstory for Jack O’Neill and Tony Stark being half-brothers.
Relationships: Howard Stark/OMC, Howard Stark/private Lorraine, implied eventual private Lorraine/OMC
Series: SG1/MCU Crossover [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000974
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kabal42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabal42/gifts), [ButterflyN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyN/gifts), [I_kill_Zombies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_kill_Zombies/gifts).



> So, back in 2013 I started writing this long SG1/MCU crossover that took place directly after the events of the first Avengers. In that fic, Tony and Jack were brothers. It never went anywhere, I’m afraid, and the only published piece of that verse is this short crossover fic with Jack and Tony: <https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062981>
> 
> It’s been ages, but this nearly finished fic that links the two universes and also attempts to link Howard Stark from Captain America to the much less happy Howard we see in Iron Man movies just wouldn’t let me go, and so, in case someone out there might want a ridiculous Howard-centric WIP, I’m posting it. It’s missing a non-essential chink in the middle, and I don't think I'll ever be inspired enough to add that part, but please, if the ending is unclear to you without the missing part, please, don't hesitate to ask me, I'll clarify as much as I can.
> 
> A huge part of this fic was betaed way back in 2014 by the amazing [Kabal42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabal42/pseuds/Kabal42). Before he got involved this text (and all of my other writing, as well) was a mess. Kabal42 was incredibly helpful and unimaginably patient, and I learned a lot from him. Even though I did not post this fic at the time, I used everything I learned from him in my other works, and I owe a lot to him for that. 
> 
> I'm gifting this work to the Kabal42 and the two people who, years ago, expressed some interest in this 'verse. I'm pretty sure it wasn't worth the wait, but I hope you enjoy some of it, at least.

The hall is full of people of all ranks and titles, the music is pretty damn loud, and today Howard would rather the two of them were somewhere, anywhere, else, but he swallows his complaints, walks straight to Sean, puts on his best public smile and says, “Congratulations, Captain O’Neill.”

Sean winces. “Thank you, Mr. Stark,” he says in this polite noncommittal way he definitely caught from Rogers. Howard has no idea how he managed to do that; he can swear the two hadn’t met more than five times before Steve was gone.

Howard gives him his best flashy smile. “You deserved it, Captain, it was long overdue.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Sean repeats and shakes Howard’s offered hand. They don’t touch longer than appropriate. Everybody’s looking, neither of them can afford to be anything but perfect.

“So, any plans now?”

“I don’t have an assignment yet, Mr. Stark, and even if I did, it would be classified,” Sean snaps. No one probably notices that he’s being snarky behind that polite smile Sean does so much better than Steve ever did, but Howard knows.

“That’s not what I meant,” he amends. “I meant right now. Didn’t you get a leave with your promotion?”

“Twelve days. I’m staying in New York, I think. I have some errands to run here, and I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Howard smiles. “I have a proposition for you, Captain O’Neill. My expedition is leaving tomorrow. Why don’t you join us? We could use an extra pilot. I’ll give you a plane to fly back home when you’re due back.”

“I’ll have to think about it, Mr. Stark,” O’Neill says with a frown. “Like I said, I’ve got things to do.”

“Are those things a good secretary could do for you? Because my secretary is totally available.” he gives Anna a dirty smile across the hall; it’s not like after almost a decade she’s not used to it. “You can borrow her.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Sean says again – he has a thing for repeating himself today, obviously.

“You do that.” Howard grins and waves to someone behind Sean’s back. He’s not sure he’s ever met that someone before, but his deed is done, he should leave now. He can feel Sean’s eyes on his back, they’re gonna burn a hole in him one of these days. But they’ll have ten days. It’s a good thing.

**

Much, much later that night, in one of the spare bedrooms (having the reception in Howard’s mansion is quite convenient sometimes), Sean slams Howard against the locked door. “Don’t. Call. Me. Captain,” he whispers between rough kisses.

Howard knows where he’s coming from. “Okay,” he breathes as soon as he can breathe at all. “Okay, I won’t,” he adds, even though he knows they’ll have to meet in public, and he knows Sean’s rank is the only appropriate way to address him.

But Sean kisses him again, and all he can call him now is “Sean,” and occasionally, “oh my God”. Blasphemy is fine, God has nothing to do with this, anyway.

**

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sean says when they’re in bed, sticky and sated, and it’s not even dawn yet. “I know you want me there, but you should have asked me first.”

“I want you everywhere,” Howard whispers. He knows Sean doesn’t appreciate dirty jokes, but he’d walked right into it, fair’s fair. “And I did ask you.”

“You know what I mean, Stark.” Sean says, and “Stark” is never good. “You know that if I didn’t want to go with you, now I would still have no choice.”

“That’s what I was going for, O’Neill,” Howard grins. “You know me. I always have my way.”

“Why do I like you, again?” Sean’s Irish accent is so sexy, why hasn’t he noticed it before? Or wait, he has.

“Because everyone likes me.”

Sean kisses him for that. “Ain’t that the truth.”

He meets Obie on the way to his room – it’s already six in the morning, he’s lucky it’s just Obie, who’s always been an early bird. The guy’s a genius; he probably knows everything. But he’s as loyal as they come. Howard winks at him and heads to bed.

**

Obie’s the one who wakes him up in the morning, with a cup of coffee and a loud, “Wakey, Stark, sun is a-shi-ning!”

No one is allowed to look that cheerful in the morning, it should be illegal, and that’s what Howard tells him, trying to hide under the pillows.

“It’s afternoon, Stark, and your plane is leaving in an hour.” Obie grins like he’s taking some perverted pleasure in Howard’s pain. “Drink your coffee and go get dressed.”

Howard envies Obie. The guy is in his early twenties – Howard doesn’t remember being that young, it was before the war, before Steve, before Sean, in another life. Even Sean isn’t this young. Sean spent his early twenties at war. Howard is glad Obie was spared that.

He accepts the cup. “It’s my plane, it won’t leave without me.” Howard says, and when Obie doesn’t answer, he asks, “You’re still not coming with us?”

“Someone needs to keep an eye on everything while you’re having fun,” Obie says.

“Yeah, and you’re the responsible one,” Howard grins.

“Someone has to be,” Obie says. “Howard, seriously, you’ll get us broke with those expeditions. What are you trying to prove?”

They’ve had this talk a thousand times. “I’m not leaving him there,” he insists.

Obie rolls his eyes. He doesn’t say that there’s been no trace since they’d found the cube, he doesn’t say that no one can survive nearly a decade in the ice. He doesn’t say everyone thinks Howard is crazy. He’s said it before, and Howard is sure he’ll say it again, but this time he just rolls his eyes and then shrugs. “Finish your coffee and go take a shower. I’ll tell Jarvis to have the limousine ready in ten.” With that, he leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

Sean doesn’t join Howard in the limo; Howard won’t see him until they board the plane. He probably left early, and is meeting Anna right now, giving her instructions for his errands. Obie, however, decides to accompany him.

“You secretly just love the limo,” Howard teases. “Why don’t you buy one for yourself?”

“Maybe I will,” Obie agrees. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

Howard knows that tone.

“What, another lecture?”

“Someone does have to be the sensible adult here, Howard.”

“I’ve got ten years on you, Stane.”

“You know what I mean, Stark.”

“Yeah, wasting money, blah blah, risking lives, blah blah, I thought we talked about it... no more than twenty minutes ago?”

“That we did. And it’s not what I wanted to discuss in private.”

Howard’s limo with Jarvis at the driver’s seat is probably the most private way to talk ever invented by humanity, Obie is right.

“So, discuss,” Howard says.

Obie takes a deep breath. “You know you have to stop it, Howard.”

“Stop what, exactly?”

“Whatever it is you do with Lieutenant O’Neill.”

“It’s Captain O’Neill, Stane, and I have no idea what you’re implying.” They’ve had this talk before. Obie always says Sean isn’t worth it. Howard usually prefers to pretend he doesn’t understand.

“Of course.”

“Nothing’s going on. No one knows. No one cares.”

“Howard. You know that’s not true. Do you have any idea how much damage it would do to the company if you’re caught? Do you want them to destroy you and your... friend?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Howard. Listen to me. Stop it. Find a nice girl, marry her, have kids. You’re thirty-four and a bachelor, people are already talking.”

“They’re talking about me being a playboy. Let them.”

Obie shakes his head. “You know it has to happen, Howard, sooner or later. I’m telling you now, do as I say, it’ll save us all lots of grief. It’s going to end very badly.”

“This discussion is over, Stane. Anything else you wanted to say?”

Obie raises his hands on mock surrender. “Be careful out there, Stark,” he says. “You can’t afford recklessness. Your obsession with Rogers nearly got you killed way too many times. Please take care.”

“Yes, mom.”

“I’m serious, Howard. I worry about you.”

“I know you do, Obie. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

The limo stops, and Howard is out of it in no time, waving to Jarvis to take Obie wherever he wants to go. All his stuff is already on the plane. His annual expedition in search of Captain America is going to be especially fun this year.

He can’t hold back a smile when he sees Sean there, wearing his civilian clothes and looking happy and relaxed. They won’t have a lot of privacy on this trip, but almost half of the crew are from the 107th. They’re Steve’s people, they know how to look the other way.

When their ten days are over, Sean’s going to take the spare plane and leave for New York. They won’t see each other until they find Steve – Howard’s sure that this is the year they’ll find him. He’s sure of it every year; and that means they keep going till navigation becomes problematic and forces them to take a break. All of this means he won’t see Sean for at least a month. 

**

They don’t find Steve this time. Howard comes back to New York, disappointed but determined to do it all over again next year, and the year after that, and then again and again – he won’t give up before they find him. When Howard is finally home, Sean’s already left on a mission. He won’t be back until Christmas, and they won’t spend holidays together, but that’s okay. They’re used to it.

Right now, however, he’s back in his mansion, with his nagging best friend (he loves Obie, he really does, he just can’t help but be mad at this new “go get married” song that doesn’t seem to ever stop) and his lab. This year he’s taking a break from government projects and working on his own ideas, the ones he’s not willing to share with anyone just yet.

Anna is there for him, she’s the best secretary the world has ever seen – and she’s also one of the best friends he’s ever had, despite her being a woman. Obie is there, too – he shows up in his lab almost daily, to make sure Howard has at least two meals a day. He thinks Obie and Anna have some sort of schedule, with tasks like “feed Howard” and “make Howard go to bed” evenly distributed between the two of them. He does forget to eat and sleep when he’s working, it’s true. They are quite annoying, though, when they team up on him.

He’s not surprised when Sean doesn’t write. Sometimes when he’s not on one of his top-secret missions (one day Howard is going to have a spy in every part of the world, and he’ll know everything about every secret) he manages to send Howard a letter that would look distant and impersonal to anyone else. That’s already too much, because officially they’re not even that close. They have to invent reasons to write to each other, so Sean always has questions about the weapons, or the armor, or the equipment of whichever aircraft he or his people currently fly. Right now, Howard can tell that Sean is flying something classified. Something Howard never worked with. Because there haven’t been any letters at all, for more than three months, since Sean left New York in August.

**

On the 12th of November, the day Howard is going to remember for the rest of his life, Obie comes to his lab late in the evening, but not late enough for it to be a “put Howard to bed” visit, and knocks on the door before he enters. Obie never knocks.

Howard opens the door – it’s not locked – and Stane is there, with a thin envelope in his hand, his face frighteningly expressionless.

“Obie, what is it?” Howard asks, although he’s sure he doesn’t want to know, because it’s probably something really, really bad. Obie hands him the envelope without a greeting and says, “I’m sorry, Howard. I thought I should be the one to bring this to you.”

Howard doesn’t hesitate, just rips the envelope open. There are just three pieces of paper there. The first paper he unfolds is a typed document, with a handwritten “The above is an accurate record of my statement,” a name (sergeant Someone-Someone) Howard doesn’t recognise, and a date: September, 19, 1951. Howard reads it. It’s a testimony. Evidently, someone saw Captain Sean A. O’Neill in a compromising position with another man, and willing to testify in court. The other paper, also folded in half, is a copy of an order – most names and ranks are blacked out, but it’s an order to initiate an investigation of Captain Sean A. O’Neill’s inappropriate behavior and, if confirmed, begin a prosecution on conduct unbecoming.

The third piece of paper is a photograph of two men, nothing too obvious in their posture, but they’re standing a little too close and probably holding hands. Although the faces of the men are a little blurred, Howard has no doubt one of them is Sean. He looks at it. And looks at it. And looks at it again, as if unable to process what he’s seeing — only he has, of course, already processed it. He just doesn’t know what to do with that. 

He unfolds the two papers again and reads each of them carefully, at least five times before Obie takes them from him. All this time, all the time Howard’s been so agonisingly lonely without Sean there—

“My sources say he’s been… spotted with this young man by at least two more people, apart from this lieutenant. Both of them are willing to testify, but neither of them… ehm… saw anything really incriminating. This guy, however, reports to have seen enough to get Captain O’Neill court-martialed.”

Howard turns away from Obie. He’s suddenly gone numb. He thinks he’s supposed to be jealous, or scared, or mad, but he’s not feeling anything at all. He’s looking at the brown leaves outside the window, concentrating on breathing, in and out.

“Nothing is probably going to happen for a while,” Obie says. “There’s no direct evidence of anything. It’s a serious accusation, and O’Neill, despite his occasional insubordination, is a well-respected officer, so I heard the prosecutor wants time to collect evidence and question all the witnesses he can get his hands on. I’m reasonably sure you are not on his list so far.”

Howard nods.

“Stark, look at me,” Stane orders. Then he says, softer: “Howard.” Howard turns to look at him.

“Howard, I want you to listen very carefully,” Obie says in the same tone he talks to little children. “There is nothing you can do. He messed up, it’s on him. If you get involved in this any more than you already are, you are going down with him. There is no need to put your own life in jeopardy over this.”

Howard doesn’t feel like he can talk just yet, so he nods again. Obie pats his shoulder.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it turned out this way. I know you cared for him.” Cared. Like a bunch of letters and a picture just cancel it, once and for all. Maybe they should.

After a pause, Obie continues, “He’ll be in New York in two days. I have it on good authority that he’ll be in town for the next six months or so. I know you well enough not to try to talk you out of seeing him. But please, for the sake of everything, be careful! He’s not worth the risk.”

Then, all of a sudden, Stane hugs him. Howard didn’t know how much he needed the hug until it came. 

“We’ll get you through this, my friend,” Obie says, patting his back as Howard clings to him. “I promise.” He doesn’t say ’I told you so’ and Howard is ridiculously grateful for that – Obie would be justified if he did.

**

Just like Obie said, Sean is back in New York two days later. They don’t get to meet for another two days, and with every day that passes Howard lets himself feel more and more. The hurt and the anger boil in him, burning him from the inside. He doesn’t stop to think, not for a second. He’s in pain, and it’s more and more unbearable with every passing second, and he knows whose fault it is. The photograph, damning as it is, is right there on the table in his bedroom. He can’t help but look at it all the time; when it gets too much he puts it face down on the table, and then somehow finds himself staring at it again, and it’s face up on the same exact place, and doesn’t remember when he touched the bloody thing again. It’s magnetic. It burns his fingers when he touches it.

When Sean finally finds an excuse to show up at Howard’s place, Howard very carefully doesn’t talk to the man or even as much as looks at him until they’re in the master bedroom, door safely locked.

When they’re there, before Sean has the opportunity to say or do anything, Howard hands him the envelope and the photograph that never made its way back inside. He watches as Sean opens it and looks, and excitement and curiosity in his eyes get replaced with a blank expression, at the same time as all color drains from Sean’s face. He reads the document, takes a long look at the photograph, then puts the papers back in the envelope and the envelope back on the table by the window. He turns his back to Howard and watches the rain outside.

“You wanna say anything?” Howard asks at last.

“Is there anything in particular you’re expecting me to say?” Sean asks in reply, turning around.

Howard can think of a few things, but in the end he stops at, “Who’s the man?”

Sean flinches, as if he’s been punched. That’s not a good look on him. “So you have no doubt whatsoever that there really was a man?”

“There were witnesses, Sean.” Howard is so angry he could scream, but he does his best to look as composed as humanly possible. “Witnesses as in – plural. It’s your word against theirs.”

Sean hides his face in his hands. “Okay,” he says; his voice is muffled. “So, my word isn’t gonna matter, anyway. In this case.” He takes his hands away from his face, but doesn’t seem to know what to do with them. “It’s none of your damn business who that man was.”

Howard is about to say everything he thinks about whose business it is, after six years, but Sean raises his arm, stopping him. 

“I appreciate you warning me, Mr. Stark,” he says, “I was unaware of any sort of investigation against me. I’ll make sure to take all the necessary precautions to keep this as low-profile as possible and to ensure that your name is never mentioned.” Howard listens, dumbfounded. He expected Sean to give explanations. Find excuses. Apologise. Not just— this. “Please do not attempt to contact me any further,” Sean continues. “Have a good life.” 

With that, O’Neill turns around and walks out of the door, closing it carefully behind him.

Howard is a genius. Everybody knows that. But with all his genius mind and vast lifetime experience, he still can’t figure out what the hell has just happened. It doesn’t take a genius, though, to tell that he fucked up. Royally.

**

He tries to find Sean after that. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, but he looks for him, anyway. He knows Sean is in New York: Obie says he’s on some local assignment, whatever that means. But Sean is very good at not being found, and New York is a huge city. Howard still looks for him, and Obie reluctantly helps, but Obie can’t find him either. It’s like he’s vanished off the face of the earth, without ever leaving the city.

Obie keeps telling him to stop torturing himself. He says O’Neill had it coming. He says O’Neill doesn’t deserve him. He says it wouldn’t be safe to contact him again. And Obie is, of course, always right. Howard just needs to know why. And he also probably wants to ask Sean how he’s supposed to go on without him, because now that his anger is gone he cannot for the life of him remember what it was supposed to be like to not have Sean.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanksgiving comes and goes, then Christmas and then New Year’s, and there’s still no sign of Sean. Obie promises that his people are keeping an eye on the investigation, and says that nothing’s been happening. They aren’t pressing any charges yet, but they aren’t dropping the issue either. Obie keeps asking why Howard still bothers, and Howard just shrugs. So Obie looks at him with pity mixed with disapproval, and keeps reporting that there’s been no change.

Howard tries to bury himself in his work, he hopes it’ll help him forget – and it does, every time, up until Anna or Obie come by to tell him to go to bed. When he’s alone in his bed, he can’t sleep. He closes his eyes and can’t stop thinking of Sean, wishing he’d be here, wishing they could talk, wishing they’d never met. Eventually he finds out that two glasses of scotch knock him out just fine. It gets a bit better after that.

**

February 10 is Anna’s birthday. He has no idea what he gives her – it’s her job to pick presents he gives to people. He holds her party at the mansion though, and she’s happy enough. He knows she’s noticed he hasn’t been himself lately, but she’s not asking questions. She’s very nosey, but not when silence really matters.

One would think he’d be over this whole O’Neill thing by now, and he almost believed he was, but it all comes crashing back when he sees Sean in the crowd of guests. Of bloody course Anna would invite one of her oldest friends, and of fucking course he wouldn’t find a reason to say “no”.

Howard tries to take advantage of the situation and get Sean alone, but Captain O’Neill wears his polite smile and stays in public all the time – Howard swears he doesn’t even go to the bathroom. Howard offers guest rooms, just like he always does, but Sean doesn’t accept the offer, and that’s the first time.

He decides to get thoroughly drunk, but it’s not as easy as it seems under Obie’s watchful eye.

**

“Marry me,” he tells Anna as soon as the guests are gone and the two of them are alone. He managed to drink just a little bit too much when Obie wasn’t looking. He’s not drunk. He’s not.

“Excuse me?” She looks at him questioningly, like she’s not sure if it’s one of his pranks.

“You heard me. Marry me. Let’s get married, have a huge wedding — we’ll invite all those stupid generals and get them all drunk — and then we’ll have five kids. Or seven.”

“I don’t want five kids. And I’d be brain dead before I marry you, Mr. Stark.” She’s smiling, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Why not? I’m a millionaire and a genius, you’re smart and beautiful, we’re gonna have amazing children. You do want children, don’t you?”

“Why are you even asking me? Did you lose a bet?”

“I’m hurt, Miss Lorraine. Can’t I ask my secretary and one of my best friends to marry me without any ulterior motive?”

“You? Most definitely not.”

“But I’m asking you. Marry me. Should I get down on one knee? I have bad knees, I’ll have you know. But I can buy you a ring. You want a ring? With a diamond the size of your fist?”

“You really are serious, aren’t you?” Who else knows him well enough to tell that?

“Like a heart attack.” He’s really eager to take her to the altar right this very moment. He promises himself he won’t ever make her regret it if she says yes.

“No, Howard,” she says. “You’re right. I do want children. But I don’t want my children to grow up in this.” She motions around the hall.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he argues.

“Yes. That’s exactly my point, Howard, thank you very much. You’re rich, insane, and reckless. I love you, Howard, you’re fun and a good friend. But I don’t want my kids to grow up knowing their father can buy them anything they ever want. I don’t want my kid to think he owns the world.”

He doesn’t get it. There’s nothing wrong with being rich.

“You kissed Captain America. Us mere mortal millionaires aren’t good enough for you now,” he complains.

“Why, Mr. Stark, that’s a brilliant deduction, you really are a genius,” she answers, not even a little bit insulted. Her smile is genuine now, and a little bit relieved. That’s what he loves about her: she’s not easy to insult. And quite easy in a lot of other ways. He kisses her then, just because he can. He still can, can’t he.

Turns out, he can more than kiss her. She’s willing and seductive, he hasn’t been with a woman since this whole thing with Sean began, and she doesn’t want to marry him at all, so he figures it’s a match made in heaven. Much better than a wedding with generals and subsequent five kids.

**

He’s forgotten how liberating it is to bring someone to his bedroom without having to hide. They meet no one on the way to his room, but they could, and it wouldn’t be the end of the world. It makes him want to cry – with relief, or, probably heartbreak – he’s not sure.

He doesn’t cry until it’s long past midnight, and she’s holding him while he does. She doesn’t ask – she never asks when he doesn’t want her to but that night he tells her everything. The whole story, from the first day he met Sean O’Neill on that airbase in France, to the last moment he walked out of this very room. She didn’t know, of course; Sean never confided in her, but she doesn’t judge. She’s probably the only person in the world who wouldn’t, and it feels so good to finally be able to get it off his chest. She doesn’t offer any comments, just keeps patting his hair and kissing his forehead until he’s asleep.

**

In the morning, she’s all business. She brings him coffee – she really is the perfect woman, even sober he’d still marry her in a heartbeat – and sits on the edge of his bed, already dressed perfectly and wearing lipstick, waiting for him to finish his cup. Then she says, “So, what are you going to do now?”

“About what?” he asks.

“Sean. Everything.”

“What’s there to do?” He sighs and lights a cigarette. She doesn’t smoke, not since the war, so he doesn’t offer her one.

“Well, first and foremost, something has to be done about this investigation. You know he won’t simply get discharged over this, right? He’ll go to prison for years, and that’s if he’s lucky. Something has to be done, now, before it’s gone too far.”

“If it hasn’t yet,” Howard says, “it means they probably don’t have anything real on him.”

“And that brings us to my next point. You’re an idiot.”

“What else is new?”

“Really, Howard. You’re the best boss a girl can wish for, and I love you, but believing some stupid rumors and a blurred picture over Sean, of all people? That’s pretty stupid even for you.”

Howard nods. He’s had enough time to realize that, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. He wishes he could take it back, take it all back.

She can see his desperation. “I’ll talk to him. He and I aren’t that close, but something tells me I have better chances than you do right now.” He nods. “As for the other thing – I’ll think of something. Right now, considering they aren’t pressing any charges, it’s all just rumors and talk. But even if they never prove anything, the talk alone can destroy him. I’ve already seen glances, even though I had no idea what they were about. We need to stop it, by any means.”

Howard nods again.

“I’m glad you told me. Let’s hope it’s not too late.”

She kisses him, and tastes like coffee and lipstick. Then she says, “I’ll see you at the office, Mr. Stark,” and leaves.

**

Here’s what makes Anna the best secretary, on top of her being the perfect woman: if she says she’ll do something, it gets done. All the time, every time, with no excuses and exceptions.

So, less than a week later, she accompanies him to his office – the one he barely uses, because he prefers his lab to any other place – and, as soon as he enters, locks the door behind him, from the outside. He should have expected it. Sean is there, sitting at Howard’s desk. He looks like he’s already in court. Howard could cry with relief.

He could cry, but he just stands there at the door, unable to move or speak. He can’t stop looking at Sean; he wants to commit him to memory. If this is the last time they see each other, he wants to remember everything – his red hair, always just a tiny bit too long to be strictly regulation, his impossibly green eyes, his lips, the way he holds his head and moves his hands. Howard feels like it’s vital to hold on to all of it, in case Sean walks out of this door the moment Anna opens it and never comes back.

They hold each other’s gaze for a long time, and neither of them speaks. Sean’s expression is unreadable, he’s like a perfect marble statue, pale and still. It’s that stillness that does Howard in at the end – Sean is not supposed to be this way, to look like that, he should not be pale and tired, he should be relaxed and laughing, like he was in the expedition last year, like he was with Howard all the time, every time they were together. Howard misses his smile more than he ever missed anything in his entire life. He’ll do anything, anything at all, just to have this man back in his life.

Before his brain can even catch up – and it’s not like it would have changed anything – Howard drops to his knees at Sean’s feet. His voice is shaking, there’s moisture in his eyes, when he’s begging Sean to forgive him, please, please, forgive him, because all of a sudden he knows he won’t be able to go on like this. Without Sean touching him, without Sean smiling at him, for him.

He’s not looking at Sean, his eyes are closed, so he doesn’t see the marble shatter. But it does, and Sean takes Howard’s hand and tugs it, gently, until Howard lets Sean help him to his feet, and then sit on the table. He lets Sean lead him, like a child, and his heart might as well have stopped already – Sean isn’t saying anything. 

Sean is looking at Howard, and now there’s nothing left of that expressionless marbles; instead, Sean’s face is showing everything, everything at once: hurt and forgiveness and hope and desperation; Howard could catalogue every single emotion right now if only he could concentrate enough beyond just looking at O’Neill, Sean, his Sean, looking back at him, holding his hand.

It almost doesn’t matter that he’s not speaking. Almost – until it doesn’t matter at all, because Sean is kissing him. It’s almost like their first time – just as much pain, and lust, and urgency – but it’s nothing like it, at the same time, there’s relief, and desire, and–oh.

This is what being in love feels like. When the hell did that happen? Howard is supposed to be a genius, how did he miss it? Had it been a woman, he’d probably have caught up much faster. Somewhere between test flights and desperate kisses, formal letters and rare nights together, winning the war and losing everything that matters – Howard had gone and fallen in love. Not just the warm desire to make her happy that he has for Anna, or the pride-induced childish crush he had (still has) on Steve, it’s something different, deeper, capable of completely ruining him and keeping him alive at the same time. 

Sean kisses him, and kisses him, until they’re both out of breath, and then a little more. Eventually Sean breaks away (Howard wouldn’t, he’d easily learn to do without breathing if it meant they’d never separate) and buries his face in Howard’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Sean finally says into Howard’s neck, once he manages to catch his breath. “Howard, I’m so sorry.”

The words terrify Howard. Maybe he hasn’t been forgiven, after all, O’Neill is going to apologize and leave now, he can’t, just can’t, can’t let it happen, so he holds on to Sean like his life depends on it, because it does. But Sean holds him with just as much force.

“I’m sorry I left the way I did,” Sean clarifies. “I was angry, so angry I couldn’t help myself. I... shouldn’t have left. I should have yelled, I should have punched you, I shouldn’t have left.”

What can Howard say to this?

“It’s all my fault,” he says at last, still not letting go of Sean.

“Not all of it,” Sean says. “But quite a lot, yes.” And then he smiles, with that very same smile Howard missed so much. “You have a lot of making up to do.”

Howard freezes and takes a deep slow breath. It’s not over yet, it’s actually still as far from over as it was when he entered the room.

“What is it?” Sean asks. Of course he does, and Howard has no choice but to jump right into it.

“I’ve got a lot more making up to do than you think,” says, attempting a joke. Sean isn’t having any of it, just looks at him expectantly. “I slept with Anna,” Howard says at last. It has to be said, and if he hesitates another second, he’ll persuade himself not to, and it will be even worse.

Sean slowly disentangles himself from Howard’s embrace and takes a small step back. Howard’s heart sinks, but Sean isn’t walking away, he’s just standing there, looking at Howard with an odd expression.

“When?” he asks, finally.

“The night after her birthday party,” Howard answers. “I also proposed to her. I was...” Drunk? Desperate? Missing you so much I slept with someone else?

“Did she say yes?” Sean asks, and is that a smile he’s trying to hide?

“She’s a very smart woman,” Howard says. “Of course she said no.” 

Now Sean is actually smiling, and it’s beautiful. “I’m pretty sure it’s not technically cheating,” he says slowly, “if it happens when you’re not in a relationship. I left fully intending not to come back, and I think I expressed myself rather clearly, no matter how much I regretted it later.” Howard nods. Sean’s smiling again. “Besides, I don’t think we ever discussed this... thing we have. We never agreed to be exclusive.”

That’s the first time Howard realizes it. They really never agreed.

“I implied...” he says, unsure.

“So did I,” Sean agrees. “That’s why I was so angry. But then I thought— really. We didn’t agree. Not that it would have changed anything for me. I haven’t been with anyone else for quite a while.”

Howard nods. He feels the need to clarify, “Me, either,” he says. “Not for a couple of years.”

“Really?” Sean sounds pleasantly surprised. “You have quite a reputation.”

“Some flirting and a lot of rumors, most of them hand-crafted by Stane,” Howard explains. “What, were they believable?”

“Some of them.” Sean smirks. “You had alibis, though, for more nights than not.”

This is how they end up discussing things they should have worked out long ago. That neither of them initially planned for it to be anything but what it was in the very beginning – a few half-drunk encounters in dark corners where no one could see – and that neither of them noticed how this, whatever it is between them, snuck up on them, and now they’ve been together for years, craving something more than what they could possibly have.

Sean is generous and sensible. He’s forgiven Howard like only Sean can forgive; wholeheartedly, with no second thoughts. He hates the thought of Howard with anyone else, but he’s forgiven him for Anna, too – and this is more than Howard could hope for; this is everything.

They’re still not saying the three words. Somehow, it feels like saying them right now would diminish the significance of the moment, and Howard, who has never been much of a romantic, can’t bring himself to do that.

**

Clearly, it’s Anna’s job to ruin his big moments. Not that it’s unexpected when she knocks on the door, but still. Howard isn’t sure how long they’ve been there when she does, but it feels like a lifetime and desperately short at the same time. They jump to their feet and rearrange their clothes with well-trained motions; they’ve had years of training. By the time the door clicks open and Anna enters, carrying a tray with three cups of coffee and a plate of cookies, they both look far less shaken than they feel, and are properly settled at the table with unbearable distance between them.

“Was that enough time, Captain O’Neill, Mr. Stark?” she asks. 

He notices Sean can’t quite get himself to look at her. “Quite enough, Anna, thank you.”

She offers Howard a cup of coffee, then turns to Sean.

“You take it with two sugars and no milk, is that right, Captain?” she asks.

Sean nods and thanks her. His blank, polite expression is back, but it’s just Sean being nice, not that stone-cold not-Sean Howard saw this morning. Polite is also better than not looking at Anna at all.

“Okay then,” Anna says, tossing all formalities aside. “Now I’m locking the door from the inside and we’re having a talk.”

She does just that; locks the door, then comes back to the table and takes a sip of her own coffee. Sean jumps out of his chair and offers it to her, always the gentleman. She thanks him with politeness that’s not quite mocking, but not serious either; he gives her a small bow, and Howard can’t help but enjoy their little interaction. Granted, they are not on the best of terms right now, but they are a little alike, in a lot of ways, and he doesn’t see them together very often. Sean is all blank expressions and polite smiles, while Anna is flirty, but not to the point of being seductive. They look nice.  
Sean stands behind her chair, obviously not sure of what to do now.

“Take a chair for yourself, Captain,” Anna commands. “Sit over here. We are going to discuss your future.”

It’s not that Howard’s forgotten about the photos and the investigation, it’s just that he really, really doesn’t want to think about it, in the tiny bubble of happiness that grew around the two of them while they talked here alone. Back to Earth now, folks, there is no such thing as a happy ending.


	4. Chapter 4

Turns out, Anna has a list of fifteen different actions that can be taken to get Sean out of his mess. 

“First of all,” she says, “there are several things that can be done against the person who initiated this whole… situation.”

“I am sure he is just doing his job, Miss Lorraine,” Sean objects.

“The prosecutor? Of course he is. But there’s something else behind all of it. Don’t you see it? You are being set up. They’re stalling. It’s not just because they need more ‘evidence’, cases have been made on less. They are waiting for an order. Someone is controlling this thing. Someone is paying the witnesses. Someone is making sure it moves as slow as it does, because that someone wants something.”

“It makes sense,” Howard says. “I wonder why Obie hasn’t noticed it yet.”

Anna gives him an odd look. “I am sure there is a reason for that,” she says at last.

Sean looks at her. “Have you tried to track down whoever might be behind it?”

She stares back at him, and it looks like they’re having some sort of silent conversation.

“I’ve tried. I have my suspicions. I’m not ready to announce them yet.”

Sean nods, obviously satisfied with whatever she didn’t say and he still heard. “I want you to stop searching,” he says after a pause. “If there is a person with ulterior motives, which I’m not convinced of, I’m not about to clean my name by dragging his through the mud, whoever it is.”

“He’s doing that to yours.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“And they are trying to charge this man with conduct unbecoming of an officer!” she says.

“Sean, listen,” Howard says. “This person, whoever he is, for whatever reason, wants to destroy your whole life. It’s not about being a gentleman, it’s about staying alive. It would be reasonable to at least find out who’s doing it, to have an idea of what else you can expect.” His efforts are probably in vain; he knows Sean well enough to see it’s a lost cause.

“Howard.” Sean says carefully, as if trying to persuade Howard of something very important. “I’m not turning this into a war. If there’s absolutely no other way, we will deal with him, but in this particular situation I just want it to be over.”

Howard inhales, preparing for an argument, when Anna hastily interrupts him, “Okay then, that rules out the first six items on my list.” she says. “Let’s move on, there’s no time to waste.”

Not giving Howard time to object, Sean nods, and she continues. “My other suggestions are even less pretty.”

“Are they hurting anyone?” Sean asks, of fucking course he does.

“Some of them.”

“Strike those.”

“Captain. You have to listen to what I have to say before you veto anything. The only person most of them are hurting is you. It’s not about keeping your reputation crispy clean. It’s about what would do less damage than the charges you are facing.”

He nods.

Howard hates Anna’s list; she’s right, most of her options include hurting Sean. Her suggestions mostly have to do with fighting rumors with even more rumors, and include Sean getting caught in a whorehouse (it’s still conduct unbecoming, but with lower chances of ending up in prison), seducing someone’s daughter, confessing his love for a certain confirmed communist spy (she’s thirty and married), and offers a variety of other ways of getting involved in sexual scandals of all kinds – all of them with inappropriate women. Most of the deeds she suggests still lead to court-martial. Sean agrees that the outcome will be less dramatic. Howard, however, doesn’t have to like them.

“Your strongest argument we have,” she says, “is that you really didn’t do what they are accusing you of. There’s a case to be made against those false testimonies. But our weak point is that they are not coming out of nowhere. If they go through with the charges, it might mean that they’ve found something real. One of the aims of our campaign,” she gives Sean a small smile, “is to show them that any accusations are ridiculous. So that even if they do find someone whose testimony isn’t falsified, no one would believe them. Right now, I am sorry to say, your more than perfect social behavior can be taken as proof.”

“Are you saying that he can be accused of sodomy on the sole basis of not having been caught in every brothel in the world?”

“Generally, considering the accusations aren’t completely groundless, and there’s probably someone who wants him down, yes. That does seem to be the case.”

“Okay,” Sean more whispers than says aloud. “I’ll think about it. What else can be done?”

“Nothing more than with any other trial. We can bribe some witnesses, we can even go higher and bribe some officers and judges. We have to be careful here; if word comes out that Stark Industries is doing that, there will be trouble. I’m looking into what can be done.”

“You know you can have access to all of my resources,” Howard says, and Anna shrugs and nods.

“Here’s a list, Captain O’Neill,” Anna says. “These are all the women I could think of who could provide you with… the consequences we’re after. I’ve made some notes on what exactly would be the most scandalous thing to do with this particular woman. Being photographed shopping for fur coats with madam number five is particularly recommended. A public argument with the Number Ten’s fiance is also a decent choice. Even one of these things will go a long way, and the more you do the safer off you will be.”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, miss Lorraine,” Sean says with a polite smile, but the look he gives the list is less than enthusiastic.

“It’s Anna, please,” she says. “And stop looking like you’re going to burn the list as soon as you’re out of here. Read it. Sleep on it. I’m sure you’ll find something that doesn’t feel too awful.”

Sean’s expression softens. “Thank you, Anna.”

“Anytime, Captain.”

“It’s Sean, please,” Sean says in the exact same tone.

Anna gives him a smile that’s entirely too flirty for this situation. 

“Oi,” Howard complains, “would you two like to get a room?”

“We’re just fine where we are, mister Stark, thank you,” Sean replies without missing a beat. And here comes the smile. It will someday be Howard’s undoing.

“I think that’s about my cue,” Anna chimes in. “Sean, it’s really essential that you take this very seriously. Howard, I’d like you to sign some documents that give certain people access to your offshore investments. Be aware that you’re most likely going to lose them.” Howard nods. He’ll gladly give away everything he’s got.

“And one more thing,” Anna adds when she’s picking up the tray with coffee cups. “Don’t talk to anyone about this. And I mean – anyone at all. Not even your very best friends.”

“Obie knows everything anyway,” Howard says.

“Good for him,” Anna says. “But what we’ve just discussed should not leave this room. If nothing else, it’s for his own safety.” Howard agrees with that, and she leaves, leaving the door closed, but not locked. He locks it from the inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the missing chunk comes in. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll get enough motivation to fill in the gaps here. 
> 
> Between this chapter and the next, Howard and Sean, against their better judgement, spend a few days together in Howard's mansion, while Sean struggles to do anything with Anna's list. Pretty soon after that Sean's CO comes to Howard (he does that because he was bribed to come to Anna if he feels there's trouble, and he decides to bypass the middle woman) and explains that he though that particular "witness" mysteriously decided to retire and move to Hawaii, three more came to him to voice their concerns. One of them had a photograph with Sean and Howard, doing nothing incriminating, but suspicious under the circumstances. Obie insists this is a disaster and Howard is inclined to believe him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm finishing posting this. Evidently, the missing piece in the middle isn't going to write itself and I'm not in the mood for writing it, either. So, here's the last chapter and epilogue. Please, feel free to ask me if anything is unclear without the part that isn't there; I'll try to give you a summary.

Anna lets Sean into Howard’s office. This time she doesn't lock the door from the outside.

Sean is wearing his uniform, clean, but wrinkled. He’s clean-shaven, but looks like he hasn’t slept for days.

“That bad?” Howard asks, but Sean just shakes his head slightly.

“Not as bad as could be. There’s no official investigation. I don’t think they have anything solid, but… I’m not sure you and I should be alone for long.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. Did you see that limo that just left? As far as everyone is concerned, I’m in it, and you’re alone with miss Lorraine here.”

Sean nods. He looks so tired; Howard wishes he could just take him to bed and let him sleep for days. He wishes for a lot of things.

“Anyway,” he says with fake bravado, although he knows Sean can see right through it. “There might be a new unexpected solution to the problem. It won’t help without more bribes, of course, and you’re certainly not gonna like it.”

“I… don’t believe I am in a position to be picky, at this point.” Right. “I’m all ears.”

Howard doesn’t know how one is supposed to deliver news like that. He hopes Sean won’t kill him when he hears it. Or probably hopes he will.

“Anna’s pregnant,” he says at last.

“Anna…” Sean closes his eyes, like he can’t stand looking at Howard. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”

Howard nods, although Sean can’t see that. He doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer, anyway.

“And you want me to marry her.” Is Howard the only one who finds it unthinkable?

“Not my idea.” He feels the need to clarify that. “Anna came up with it. I’d never…”

Sean shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

Sean still wouldn’t look at him. He opens his eyes, but turns around to look at the window. Howard suddenly has a terrible flashback to that day when he gave Sean the bloody photographs. Sean is quiet for a long time.

“I had this daydream once, this fantasy,” he says at last, “that one day, somehow, miraculously, things change, the world changes, everything changes. And this, what you and I have together, is not a terrible dirty secret anymore, not something,” his breath sounds more like a sob, “not something that will destroy us both, sooner rather than later. In that fantasy, one day, we’re together, you and I, we live together, we’re a family, maybe even with a kid – don’t ask me how we get a kid,” he’s probably going for laughter, but it’s a sob again, “I’ve always wanted a family, Howard. I’ve never wanted one with a woman.”

Howard doesn’t know what to say to that. Sean often leaves him speechless, but this is not the kind of speechless he’d rather be. He thinks it’s probably a good thing that it never occurred to him to daydream about anything like that. He’s a practical man. He rarely thinks of those few things in the world that he cannot have. He wonders how much alcohol it’s gonna take to forget about this particular impossible thing now. 

That would probably be the wrong thing to say.

Sean turns around. His eyes are wet. He takes one step towards Howard, two, and then touches Howard’s cheek with the tips of his fingers, and somehow Howard’s cheek it’s wet, too. He’s not crying again. He’s Howard fucking Stark, he defeated the Nazis and saved the world. 

Sean kisses his forehead, gently, then whispers, “I’m sorry,” and leans to place a light kiss on Howard’s lips. Howard doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, so he doesn’t answer, not with words. They stay like that, not quite kissing, just breathing the same air, for some time. It could be minutes. It could be hours.

Then Sean steps back. “I’ll do it,” he says, suddenly composed and confident. “As long as Anna’s really okay with it, I’ll do it.”

Howard doesn’t trust his voice yet, but at least his eyes are now dry. He nods.

“I assume she came up with a detailed plan of action?” Sean asks.

“She did. You’re—” His voice is okay, but he can’t quite catch his breath. “You’re supposed to be seen with her in public. I’ll bribe a couple of reporters to start rumors about the two of you. She’ll have a heart-to-heart with the city’s worst gossips, begging them not to tell anyone. You… probably should be discussing all this with her.”

“Yes. I probably should,” Sean agrees. They don’t talk beyond that, there isn’t much to say.

**

On May, 20, 1951 Captain Sean A. O’Neill, US Air Force, marries Miss Anna Lorraine. She’s wearing white, and that in itself is inappropriate, because everyone already knows that their child is due sometime next fall. The ceremony is held in a small town in Minnesota – Anna’s parents still live there, and she’s always wanted to get married in Minnesota – and the newlyweds are planning to spend their honeymoon in Florida, courtesy of new Mrs. O’Neill’s former employer, Mr. Howard Stark. 

Howard is planning to spend their honeymoon in the Arctic circle: coincidentally, this year he’s got some new equipment to test, so he’s starting his expedition earlier than usual. By the time he’s back, Captain and Mrs. O’Neill are going to be settled in Chicago, for Captain O’Neill’s new assignment on Chanute Base.

Right now, sitting in the front row of a small church, he thinks of small mercies. He’s not Sean’s best man. He’s not giving Anna away. Also, he made sure there’s a lot of scotch, among other spirits, in the bar. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it, otherwise.

**

“I should have given him more credit,” Obie says sometime during the reception, “I have to admit, this is a very clever move.”

Howard doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at Stane. Obie pats his shoulder. “You should follow his example. What you two do, it’s nobody’s business, but having a wife and a child is good insurance.”

Howard never wanted to punch Stane so much in his life, so he still says nothing. Obie half-hugs him then, a glass in one hand. “Courage, my friend. You’re doing just fine.”

At that, he walks away, whistling something off-tune and smiling at some pretty waitress.

“He’s right, you know,” Sean says when Obie is out of sight. Howard could have sworn he wasn’t here a second ago. “Someday—“

“Don’t say that,” Howard warns. “Just don’t.”

“Okay. But we’ll have to be more careful now. Or rather, you should be less careful. What got us out of this mess— it should happen again.” Sean lowers his voice. “No matter how we feel about it. I’ll swallow my pride as long as you don’t get in trouble.”

Howard shakes his head. He knows, if Obie and Sean agree on something it means they are right. He just can’t picture himself sleeping with a woman again, let alone married to one. Not in this world, not since Sean had to abandon his crazy daydream, and Howard had to be the one to pick it up. He’ll have to be happy with what he’s got. He’s going to have a baby. With his two most favorite people in the world. They promised he'd be a part of their lives.

He’s still losing them both to it, he knows it’s inevitable. He’ll have to make do with what he’s got, for as long as he’s got it.


	6. Epilogue

He does get married – a whole lifetime later, and not before their (Sean’s) son gets into the Air Force Academy. He’s an amazing kid, and that’s what sells the whole marriage deal to Howard at last: he can have another one just like him. Well, that, and the fact that Maria is pregnant, despite all his precautions.

He’s been doing his carefully-not-careful part, he’s given them reasons to talk to last a couple of decades ahead. He’s been seeing Sean less and less as their son was growing up, they rarely dare to be together when the kid can see them, but he still thinks the boy suspects. He can’t put the kid in this position, having to hide this secret for them all his life, he just can’t. So, he marries Maria. He picks the name for his son himself. He’s the only one, save for Anna and Sean, who knows what the A. in Sean’s name stands for.

Tony is nothing like Jonathan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this verse Tony and Jack do eventually find their way to their respective happy endings, but Howard and Sean, unfortunately, don't get much happier.
> 
> This story wasn't fully betaed; the last chapter and the short epilogue didn't have much revision at all. All the mistakes are mine, if you absolutely can't stand that one particular mistake please feel free to mention it, but don't go out of your way: I'm not seeking perfection with this particular piece.


End file.
